


Day 20: Reservation Gone Wrong

by thebright1



Series: An Ineffable Plan: A Canon Compliant Love Story [20]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 6000 Years of Pining (Good Omens), 6000 Years of Slow Burn (Good Omens), Aziraphale and Crowley Through The Ages (Good Omens), Crowley's Name is Crawly | Crawley (Good Omens), Gabriel Being an Asshole (Good Omens), Ineffable Valentines 2020 (Good Omens), M/M, Mentions Jesus, Secondhand Awkward, religious discussions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:00:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22825261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebright1/pseuds/thebright1
Summary: He frowns. That’s odd. He’s always been able to find Crawly before.  He closes his eyes, searches inside himself for that link, finds the tether within himself, and chases it to . . . nothing. In his mind’s eye it dangles like a cut rope over the edge of a cliff. The place where he should find Crawly he finds nothing. Just emptiness. Blank space.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/crawly
Series: An Ineffable Plan: A Canon Compliant Love Story [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1620406
Comments: 10
Kudos: 99





	Day 20: Reservation Gone Wrong

**Author's Note:**

> All of the stories in this series are linked together, so if you want a full picture of what exactly is going on, please start with [ Day 1: Chocolate](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22520329). These are all written for the 2020 Ineffable Valentines challenge on Tumblr, and I am still trying to fill those prompts even though this thing has taken on a life of its own.
> 
> Update: All the works in this series are also posted as a chaptered work for easier reading/downloading: [ An Ineffable Plan](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23081191/chapters/55213303)

1 BCE

After a six month sojourn to and from Cyprus, Aziraphale returns to his rented rooms in Damascus. Upon his arrival, he receives two very good pieces of news. 

The first is that his scrolls and codices have been left intact by the lovely man who owns the property. He had fretted over leaving them in his rooms, but thought that, should the ship go down, he would most likely receive a new corporation, but the scrolls would be lost forever. He had therefore given a very large amount of money to the man who owned the property, used a miracle to impress upon the man that he should remain true to his word in all things, and then asked him to swear to God that he would not sell Aziraphale’s things. 

The second piece of good news is that he has received a message from Crawly asking if he’d like to get in touch. After Crawly had left Chang-An, Aziraphale had seen neither hide nor hair of the demon. He’d wondered after Crawly and had cautiously searched him out through the bond they shared, always being able to feel him-- sometimes it felt like he was halfway around the world, others like he was just a few towns over. But it felt too intimate to initiate contact on his own, for no reason other than wanting to know if Crawly was getting on all right. 

So the message from Crawly makes him smile and pick up a reed brush to respond. 

They communicate back and forth a few times, and finally agree to meet up in Nazareth, since Aziraphale’s next assignment required him to head South to Jerusalem and Crawly was supposed to head North to Cappadocia. Aziraphale delights in the serendipity of the Ineffable plan, and heads for Nazareth. 

Crawly’s last message had read “Arrived in Nazareth. Expect you’ll be here in about three days. I’m staying at the Inn on the western edge of town. Great wine. Let’s have lunch when you get here.” 

Aziraphale takes a room at the Inn on the northside of town, quickly unpacks his things, and then heads off to find Crawly. 

Approaching the Inn, Aziraphale feels a frisson of excitement. He’s very glad to be seeing Crawly. As a . . fellow professional. Crawly has an innate understanding of humans, and is also tasked with looking after them (albeit not in exactly the same way as Aziraphale). It’s just good to talk with someone on his own level, maybe trade a few tips and tricks between themselves. Aziraphale enters the Inn, goes to the bar, and orders a jug of wine. He doesn’t see Crawly in the nearly deserted Inn, so he takes the jug to a table in the back and pours himself a serving. He takes a fortifying gulp before reaching out with the link, just to see if he can get a sense of how far away Crawly might be . . . 

. . . and finding nothing. He swallows hard, coughing. He frowns. That’s odd. He’s always been able to find Crawly before. He closes his eyes, searches inside himself for that link, finds the tether within himself, and chases it to . . . nothing. In his mind’s eye it dangles like a cut rope over the edge of a cliff. The place where he should find Crawly he finds nothing. Just emptiness. Blank space. 

Aziraphale sets down his wine and asks the barmaid if there’s a tall thin man staying here with long red hair and strange yellow eyes. She nods and directs him to Crawly’s room upstairs. Aziraphale climbs the rickety stairs and knocks. No answer. He turns the handle and lets himself in. The room shows no signs of the demon. Aziraphale goes back downstairs. Crawly must be out doing evil.

He resumes his table and his drink, keeps his eyes fixed on the door, and reflects on his past as he waits. 

When he kissed Crawly back on the wall of Eden, he truly hadn’t known what he was doing. He was fresh off the boat, as they say, just barely a week old. He had spent almost no time in Heaven before he’d been launched down to Earth with his flaming sword. And then everything seemed to go wrong, and he wasn’t sure if he had done the right thing or the wrong thing, and he looked over and there was Crawly. Crawly, who was almost as confused as Aziraphale was about the whole endeavor in the Garden. Crawly, the first being who had made eye contact and had an actual conversation with him. He had been entranced by Crawly’s lovely red hair and golden eyes and they had shared a smile and a misunderstanding and an easy truce in the space of a half an hour. It was more companionship than he’d ever experienced before, and all he’d thought, with what he now realizes is extreme naivete, was:  _ I’d so like to see you again _ , before he’d reached over and made sure that would be not only possible, but easy. As easy as a thought. 

The Aziraphale who had stood on that garden wall had been brimming with the desire to just do good everywhere. He had no real understanding of how much power he actually had, or how to use it. He’d just blundered on, trusting himself because God told him to. He hadn’t even come up with the kiss on his own-- he had seen Adam and Eve kiss when parting, so it seemed like a good way of saying both  _ goodbye _ and  _ we’ll meet again _ .

Aziraphale has a few glasses of wine and sits at the table in the back of the Inn, watching the sun begin to make its descent. He reaches out for Crawly, first only once an hour, then once a half hour, then once every fifteen minutes. Every time he traces a line that used to find a living being at the other end and finds instead only the complete absence of that being. 

Has Crawly managed to hide the link? Or break it? Is that why he wanted to meet? Is that why he sent Aziraphale a message by cursus publicus instead of just doing what he did last time and hunting him down via their link? Is he hiding nearby, waiting to see what Aziraphale does? He purses his lips in dissatisfaction. That sounds like the kind of mischief Crawly might do. Aziraphale purses his lips, has another drink. He asks the Innkeeper for some food. He feels famished. 

He is three quarters of the way through his jug of wine when the lamb arrives. It smells wonderful, and he is just tucking in when he feels a presence in the room with him. He smiles to himself.  _ There you are, Crawly, _ he thinks, as he turns around . . . 

To find Gabriel standing only a few feet away. The smile drops from his face, replaced by a look of sheer panic and confusion. The shock of it all makes him drop his leg of lamb. It clatters to the plate. 

“Gabriel?!” Aziraphale asks, not believing his eyes. Gabriel is stuffed into a human corporation. He looks uncomfortable and awkward. His corporation is very tall, very muscular, with shoulder-level black hair. He’s dressed, thank Heaven, although his robes are a bit . . . odd looking. Very pristine-- a whiter white than white should ever be. They almost glow. Gabriel’s eyes roll around in his head like he’s having trouble figuring out how to use them. They are a most disturbing shade of violet. 

He finally seems to figure out how to focus them on Aziraphale. He curls his face into a menacing sneer. “Greetings to you, Aziraphale!” he practically shouts. 

Aziraphale cringes and he feels his whole body stiffen. “Hello Gabriel,” he says, in a normal tone of voice. He tries not to tremble. He has never seen Gabriel on Earth before. 

Gabriel’s eyes roll around some more. He takes a few jerky steps towards the table and almost collapses into the chair opposite Aziraphale. He is still sneering. 

“These legs take some getting used to! But I think I have the smiling down!” Gabriel shouts again. 

Aziraphale glances around the Inn. The innkeeper is staring at him, a question in her eyes. Aziraphale smiles at her and waves for another jug of wine. 

“Gabriel, you should try to lower the volume of your voice,” he says softly. 

“God is glorious and Her praises should be proclaimed loudly,” Gabriel shouts. 

Aziraphale winces against the onslaught, keeping his voice calm and level. “Yes, that’s true, but if you lower your volume it will help you blend in better.”

“Oh,” Gabriel says, his voice at a much more tolerable decibel. His face is still twisted into a horrible sneer. “I guess I don’t want to scare the humans away.”

Aziraphale breathes a sigh of relief. “Yes,” he says gratefully. He reaches for his glass of wine.

“It’s so hard to get used to putting words out using this wet hole!” Gabriel complains. “I keep expecting to find I’ve caused an -GROSS, WHAT ARE YOU DOING!”

Aziraphale chokes on his wine. He coughs, his face going red. 

“Are you being possessed?” Gabriel asks. He turns his head to the right and to the left in jerky motions. “I thought I could smell evil here. Is it Satan? Do you need my help vanquishing the evil one!?”

Aziraphale coughs some more, shakes his head and holds up a hand. “No, no, I’m. . .” he coughs again “perfectly fine.” He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “Satan is not here, Gabriel. I think you’re just smelling Cr- I mean, the uhm, the humans.” 

The innkeeper appears with the new jug of wine. She puts a glass down tentatively in front of Gabriel. He startles, and then examines the cup with interest. “Do you want something to eat, too?” she asks. 

Aziraphale rushes in to answer before Gabriel can open his mouth and make things any more difficult. “No, he’s fine just as he is, thank you, my dear.” She raises her eyebrows, but walks away without comment. Aziraphale breathes another sigh of relief. 

“Aziraphale, did you just put wine in your corporation’s talking hole?” 

Aziraphale blinks. “Well, yes, I did. It’s what the humans do.”

Gabriel’s face contorts into a strange expression that looks somewhere between confusion, shock and ecstasy. Aziraphale thinks that Gabriel might have better luck mastering human expressions if he spent a little more time looking in a mirror. “Gross!”

His lips press into a tight smile. “Well, I suppose it’s not for everyone.” He takes a sip of his wine, just because he can. “Unusual seeing you on Earth,” he says conversationally. 

Gabriel nods vigorously, then reaches his hands up to make his head stop moving. “Yeah, I got a special assignment from upstairs.”

Aziraphale is intrigued. “Oh?” He had not heard of God giving out any special assignments to anyone in . . . well, since she sent him down here with a flaming sword. “Did you get it directly from uhm-”

“Yep, from the Metatron.”

“I see.”  _ So that would be a no, _ he thinks, setting down his wine. “And you need my help with it?”

Gabriel gives a very disturbing laugh. It’s overloud and sounds like a cackle. He really needs a lot more practice blending in. “That’s funny. I’m an Archangel, Aziraphale. What help could a lowly Principality be to someone like me?” He throws a jerky arm over and smacks Aziraphale’s shoulder, nearly knocking him from his chair. 

“Gabriel, maybe you should hold off on the body language until you’ve mastered some of your corporation’s basics a little better,” he suggests. He rubs his shoulder and makes a mental note to miracle away the bruise later. 

Gabriel either pretends he hasn’t heard, or actually hasn’t. “Since I was down here and in the neighborhood, I thought I would stop by and see how you were doing, save you a trip up to Heaven.” 

Aziraphale wants to point out that he’s not due for another check in at the head office for fifty years by Gabriel’s scale, but decides not to mention it. “Well, here I am,” he says. He drinks more wine. 

“Exactly.  _ Here. _ You  _ are _ !” Gabriel says. “Not where I expected you would be. Weren’t you supposed to go to Jerusalem?” 

“Oh,” Aziraphale says, smiling nervously. “Yes, I am on my way there. I just stopped here to look for a . . . a friend.”

Gabriel makes another strange face. “You have a friend?” 

_ Oh no, _ Aziraphale thinks. “Oh, well, uhh, yes?” He doesn’t mean for it to come out as a question, but it does. 

“I don’t know of any other angels in the area,” Gabriel says, confusion evident in his voice. 

Aziraphale swallows nervously. His fingertips flutter delicately over his cup. 

“I mean, unless . . .Aziraphale, you didn’t-” Gabriel’s corporation’s eyes go wide. Wider than normal. They seem to be pulsing over the rim of his eye socket. Aziraphale pulls his cup of wine away, in case one of them pops out. “Did you make a  _ soul bond _ with a human?”

Aziraphale blinks. Hard. “A what?” Soul bond? 

“You can’t soul bond with humans. It’s strictly prohibited.” 

“Gabriel, I don’t even know what a soul bond is.”

Gabriel’s mouth opens and closes, but no words come out. He blinks three times and then brings a hand up and smacks the side of his own face. “Eugh, sorry about that. I forgot I have to use the tongue. And you don’t know what a soul bond is? How can you call yourself. . . ohhhhh!” He flashes that malicious grin again. “Oh, that’s because you’re new. I forget that you’re new.” 

“What is it?”

“You probably can’t even do it,” Gabriel says. He sounds much calmer now. “It was prohibited after the Fall, so I bet you aren’t even capable of it.” 

“Gabriel, will you please tell me what it is!” 

Gabriel going quiet. Aziraphale hears that complete absence of sound again. Then Gabriel speaks and his voice seems to come from every direction at once. “It’s not allowed,” he says. His voice rings with authority. “You don’t need knowledge for knowledge’s sake, Principality.” 

Aziraphale feels himself trembling. He takes a deep breath to steady himself. “Right, quite right.” He looks down at the lamb on his plate, cold now in a rapidly solidifying pile of fat. “In any case, I don’t have a . . . a soul bond with a human.” 

Gabriel seems back to normal. The sounds of the rest of the world begin creeping back into Aziraphale’s hearing. Birds outside. The clink of cups behind the bar. Two patrons come bursting into the Inn, talking animatedly. Gabriel doesn’t notice any of it. He gives Aziraphale that bizarre sneer smile. “Big changes are coming for the Fallen ones, Aziraphale!” he says brightly. “I just brought great news to this human about it. God is going to have a son, and he’s going to be a half human.”

Aziraphale startles. “A son? On . . on Earth?” 

Gabriel nods. “I knew you would be excited. This is our time to vanquish all our enemies! God is sending Her son here and he is going to wipe out all of the humans’ evilness, as foretold by the human prophets! He’s going to slaughter all the evildoers! It’s going to be even better than the War of the Fallen!” 

“Oh,” Aziraphale says. He has many, many questions. He can ask none of them. “Oh, that is interesting.”

“You betcha!” he says. “I can’t wait to swing my sword and cleave the evildoers in half, led to battle by God’s own son! Glory to God!” He raises his hand in the air and brings it down to bang on the table. Bits of lamb fly into Aziraphale’s lap. 

“Yes, glory to God,” Aziraphale says, a tad less enthusiastically. He’s seen war before. He is not sure what in Heaven's name Gabriel is so excited about. 

“I hope you have your flaming sword at the ready.”

Aziraphale’s eyes go wide. He nods. “Yes, it’s down here,” he says noncommittally. It’s true, it is down here. Somewhere. 

“Good soldier!” Gabriel stands suddenly. He knocks over the empty jug of wine and it crashes to the floor. “I have to go, I need to get out of this corporation. The clothes are making me itch all over.” He turns and walks jerkily to the door of the Inn and out into the evening. 

Aziraphale breathes a sigh of relief. 

****

Back in his room, Aziraphale looks thoughtfully at the pile of scrolls in his room. Humans have so much knowledge, and they’re writing it all down, trying desperately to preserve it. To answer all the questions that have come before and pass it on to the future generation. 

Some of these humans have written prophecies down. And some of them have uncovered bits and pieces of angel lore, and written those down. If he can’t ask questions of Heaven, he can surely see what questions humans have asked, and what answers they have found. 

**** 

It’s three in the morning when Aziraphale feels a tingle in the base of his spine and hears a knock at the door to his room. He drops the codex he’s perusing and leaps to open the door. Crawly stands there, a half smile on his face. He stinks of brimstone, and his clothes are torn and ragged. There’s a long streak of soot across his temple. “Hello ang-”

He doesn’t get the rest of the word out because Aziraphale reaches out and clutches him very tightly. Crawly goes stock still, not moving. 

“Crawly!” Aziraphale says. He pulls away, suddenly shy. “Forgive me, I just-- well, I thought I had lost you.” 

Crawly blinks slowly, as if in a daze. “You  _ what _ ?”

Aziraphale pulls him inside and shuts the door. “I couldn’t find you. I couldn’t find you anywhere.”

“Look, I’m sorry I stood you up-- I got unexpectedly recalled to Hell this afternoon, didn’t have time to leave a note--” 

“No, you don’t understand.” Aziraphale wrings his hands. “I don’t mean I couldn’t find you at your room at the Inn, I mean I couldn’t find you here.” He puts a hand to his chest. “When I looked here.” 

Crawly tilts his head, considers. “Well. I guess it only works on Earth, then. I didn’t get killed, angel. I wasn’t even discorporated. Just… sent downstairs to listen to a lot of nonsense and gossip.” 

Aziraphale opens his mouth to ask if it was about God’s son, but then remembers that they are on opposite sides. If Gabriel decided to drop by right now he’d no doubt smite Crawly where he stood. 

“You all right?” Crawly asks. “You look . . . not well.” 

He takes a deep breath. “Yes, fine, no problem, I am well.” Aziraphale is aware that he is talking too fast. “It was just . . . very disturbing. When I couldn’t find you.” He closes his eyes and looks within himself and . . . yes, there it is now. He traces the invisible rope from the base of his spine and finds the other end firmly attached to the demon in front of him. He feels his pulse slow and even out. He feels so much calmer now. When he opens his eyes, Crawly is studying him intently. 

“It’s all fine, angel,” he says slowly. “Didn’t think you were going to be rid of me that easy, were you? I have many more years of spreading around evil and winning souls for Hell.”

Aziraphale snorts. “And I have many more years of vanquishing you.” 

Crawly laughs. “Right then.” He snaps his finger and a jug of wine appears in his other hand. “Let’s have a drink.” 

FIN

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for all your kudos and comments!


End file.
